


Tidbits

by 1989Rad



Series: Give a Little [2]
Category: Batman (Comics), Red Robin (Comics), Robin (Comics), Teen Titans (Comics), Young Justice (Comics)
Genre: Cupcakes, Damian needs attention, Dirty Talk, Drabbles, Gift Giving, M/M, Making-Out in Pools, Nicknames, petnames
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-31
Updated: 2020-08-13
Packaged: 2021-03-05 21:42:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,080
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25632253
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/1989Rad/pseuds/1989Rad
Summary: Tidbits of Damian and Tim's romantic relationship.1 - (Pet names)“What if I called you Timmy?”Tim forced a civil smile, “Please don’t.”2 - (Telling Jason)Damian sucked his lip to his teeth before responding, “Has Tim already apologized?”“Profusely,” Jason said.“Then consider that my apology as well.”3 - (Team & Leadership Dynamics)“It would be,” Damian declared. “I would also make sure your skin doesn’t burn.”“An impossible task.” Tim pressed his shoulder a bit harder, forcing Damian to push back or topple over.“Not for me.”
Relationships: Tim Drake/Damian Wayne
Series: Give a Little [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1858057
Comments: 26
Kudos: 215





	1. In terms of ‘Tim’ variations

**Author's Note:**

> These can be read as a continuation of my Tedious story or as stand-alone drabbles. I just had these stories in my head still. Might as well write them!

“Ok. See you tomorrow for dinner.”

“Wait, Damian,” Dick interrupted, stopping Damian from hanging up. “Is Tim home?”

“He’s doing data entry in the cave.”

Richard hummed before continuing, “Can you maybe please interrupt him and tell him he still owes the schematics for the bike upgrade?”

Damian clicked his tongue, “Why can’t you ask him tomorrow?”

“Because I want to work on it tonight.”

“So text him,” he snapped leaning against the stairway rail.

“I did,” Richard whined. “But he isn’t picking up his phone. You know how he gets when he’s working.”

Pursing his lips Damian complained, “I’m Tim's boyfriend, not Tim’s assistant.”

“I know! I didn’t mean that. I just meant since you’re both home. I uh-.” Richard swallowed into the receiver before continuing, “You know I would have asked before you two got together, right? Little D?”

“Fine,” Damian bit as he continued down the stairs, “but don’t make this a habit.” 

“I won’t. Please just remind Timmy.”

The nickname stuck against Damian’s ear. 

“I will tell him.”

“Thank you,” Richard sang. “Oh, and could you tell Br-”

“Goodnight Richard.” Damian hung up his phone and slumped down the stairs. The spreadsheets on the massive Bat-computer scrolled by as Damian went to go feed Bat-cow. 

Richard could wait a little longer.

Bat-cow gave Damian a guttural moo as he scratched behind her ear. Both Tim, Damian, and Cassandra were off tonight from patrol. Tim took it upon himself to help Cass organize her files. 

As much as Damian wanted to be mad about the lost potential of a date night, he knew Cass was distressingly behind on her Hong Kong villains log. 

Still, it would have been better if she would have at least stuck around for Damian’s entertainment. About thirty minutes into working, Tim told her to go see Harper who had been texting them both incessantly. This was two hours ago, and Tim had moved on from Cass’s files to organizing who knows what. 

Tim had a miraculous ability to cross one item off his to-do list only to add another six. 

Damian helped Bat-cow settle for the night, before heading back to the computer. Tim was slouched, typing, and tapping his leg to the music in his headphones when Damian returned. 

The small grin and fierce focus on Tim’s face was cute, Damian decided. He watched for an extra few seconds before settling in the second computer chair. 

Tim didn’t stop working. He clicked a new file, highlighted something, and continued to type.

Damian kicked Tim’s chair, jerking him from his work.

“Wh,” Tim sputtered, pulling off his headphones, “did you have to k-”

“Dick said to check your phone.”

Tim narrowed his eyes, scrunching his nose in the process, and Damian’s stomach pinched. 

Before they got together, he had always assumed these reactions were proof he disliked Tim. He knew better now. He liked seeing Tim’s pout. It excited him to have any sort of effect on the former Robin. 

Tim flipped over his phone. “Yikes, ten messages,” he mumbled before slumping further down his seat to sort through them. Drowsily, he typed a response to one message and opened the computer again to send an email without a glance. 

Damian kicked his chair a second time, this time forcing Tim to catch himself and sit up straight. “What’s wrong with you?”

“Timmy,” Damian answered.

Tim’s mouth twisted before asking, “What?”

“Richard called you ‘Timmy.’”

“So?”

“Do you like it,” he asked, leaning back to cross his legs. Tim’s eyes roamed over Damian’s posture and a spark settled at the base of Damian’s spine.

Tim glanced back at the computer then back at Damian who was now starting to scowl. 

“Do I like what?”

“Do you like being called ‘Timmy?’” Damian questioned again, this time more sternly. 

Tim bit the inside of his cheek as he began to answer, a hand quickly moving to save and close the files. “I don’t love it. But I don’t hate it. It depends who is saying it.”

Lifting his leg again, Damian tapped at the chair handle turning Tim so they could face each other. Tim’s eyes darted to the final messages on his phone, before placing it face down on the desk. 

He let out a heavy breath before forcing his full attention to settle on Damian.

His lips tugged up wryly. Damian held his face stiff. 

“Do you like it when Dick calls you ‘Timmy?’”

“It’s ok for Dick to call me ‘Timmy.’ He uses it as like uh,” his mind searched for a moment, “a sign of affection. He doesn’t use it when he’s trying to patronize me.”

“Do others?” 

“Yeah,” Tim sighed sliding back down in his chair, his shoes now resting on either side of Damian, who had recrossed his legs. 

“Do you find it patronizing?”

“When it’s meant to be,” Tim teased and Damian let his scowl come to full fruition. 

“I meant by itself.”

“It’s a nickname. A common one for a common name,” Tim moved his elbow to the arm of the chair and squished his face against his fist. “I’m sure everyone who’s named Tim has been called ‘Timmy’ before.”

Damian pushed his back against the cushion, cracking his it. “What if I called you ‘Timmy?’”

Tim forced a civil smile, “Please don’t.”

“Why?”

“It sounds weird coming from you.” 

Damian crossed his arms, “I could say it like Grayson. Like it’s a ‘sign of affection' as you put it.”

“I would prefer you didn’t,” Tim admitted.

“Why?”

“Because it sounds weird form you,” Tim repeated eliciting a flare of frustration in Damian. “Unless it's Dick or like Bart for example, I don't really like it.”

“So they are the only ones who can call you ‘Timmy?’”

Damian held himself tighter as Tim bent his knees pulling his rolling chair closer. Tim pushed himself to sit up as his legs caged Damian’s now uncrossed legs. 

“It’s more like you’re the only one who has ever asked me what I like to be called so I'm telling you. If I could get Bernard to stop calling me 'Timmy' when he lectures me on some gossip I missed, I would.” 

Leaning forward he moved his elbows to his knees, bent his arms, and interlaced his hands. Tim rested his chin on them and stared up at Damian.

“No one has asked you before” Damian repeated.

“Nope,” Tim’s mouth popped, “just you, which I appreciate it.” Damian puffed out a breath to stop that spark in his spine from jumping at the praise. “When you have a common name like Tim people don’t think to ask what you prefer. They just call you whatever they want.”

“Like ‘Timbo,’” Damian said without thinking and Tim scoffed. “Doesn’t Jason call you that?”

“Jason calls me a lot of things.”

Damian let his arms fall to wave off Tim’s comment, “but in terms of ‘Tim’ variations. If we went through Robins-related nicknames we would be here all night.”

Tim dropped his hands to caress the top of Damian’s knee. He fiddled his thumbs as he thought, “Yeah, I think you’re right. Jason mostly calls me ‘Timbo’ which is fine. Dick also calls me that. I think Steph does too.”

“She does,” Damian clarified and coughed, “I’ve noticed she does. Do you like that one?”

“Um,” Tim said, opening his palm and Damian reached forward to take it. He interlaced their fingers and turned their hands. “It sounds better than ‘Timmy’ but I still don’t want you to call me that.”

Damian squeezed Tim’s hand and uncrossed his legs. “Why?”

“Why the sudden interest in a nickname?” Tim let Damian tug him forward and out of his chair. One at a time, his knees slipped between Damian’s thighs and the cushion. 

“Because,” Damian said as if the word was enough. Tim settled on Damian’s lap and waited for the rest. “Because I don’t want to call you ‘babe’ or ‘honey’,”

“Glad you don’t.”

“Nor do I like certain phrases my mother uses.”

“Like ‘Beloved,’” Tim cooed. 

“Timothy,” Damian pleaded, “don’t. It’s a nice sentiment when she uses it but it feels strange for me to call you that.” 

Tim twisted his fingers out of Damian’s and over his shoulders. Damian settled his own palm on Tim’s back and tried not to look like he was desperate for a kiss.

“Ok so no to English pet names. Is there an Arabic term you would like to use,” Tim questioned. 

“I’ve thought of that, but I want something less conspicuous. Something I could say in public without the world stopping to ask what it means. Something like ‘Dami’.”

“A few people call you ‘Dami’.”

“But not like you,” Damian clarified, causing Tim’s ears to go a light shade of pink. “You say it differently.”

Tim’s forehead pinched. “Then I don't understand. You already do that.”

Damian ran a hand around Tim’s back and pulled him flush against his chest. He spoke to stop himself from giving Tim's body his full attention, “What do you mean?”

“You already say a variation of my name.”

His head snapped up to glare at Tim, “I have not called you ‘Drake’ in-”

“No, not ‘Drake,’” Tim soothed. “You call me ‘Timothy’.” Damian’s brow softened as he tilted his head. Tim's eyes seemed to take note but did nothing.

“It’s your name.”

“Most people call me Tim, which I do like to be clear. Only you and Alfred call me ‘Timothy’ and Alfred only calls me that when he is mad.”

“Romantic,” Damian deadpanned falling back against the cushion. He rolled his head to look out across the cave and away from Tim.

Tim kissed Damian in that pause. The press of their lip sent the spark up Damian’s back, awakening his arms to explore. He kneaded the tightness of Tim’s overworked muscles as Tim bit down. The surge of passion surprised him. The quickness of it all. 

His groan echoed in the cave and Tim snickered into the next kiss. Damian’s mind went dizzy as he remembered where he was. The Batcave. A mixture of fear and excitement rolled through him.

That fear was tampered out by the press of Tim’s mouth on his neck. He stammered a breathy “Timothy, please let’s go up-”

“See,” Tim popped back grinning. Damian blinked through his flushed haze. “That was nothing like Alfred. When you say ‘Timothy’ it’s different. Almost like a-”

Damian stood awkwardly lifting Tim with him, “We’re going upstairs.” 

Tim’s legs wrapped around Damian’s torso, “I can walk if you,” and Damian jostled him to get a proper grip on his thighs. Tim kissed him again instead of explaining himself. 

They made it a few steps before Damian has to use a cave wall to hold Tim. His body was thrumming to the brim with excitement. An alert from the computer chimed. They ignored in favor of grinding, and kissing, and mumbling names against the echo of the cave. The second beep pulled them both out from each other. Someone will be in the cave soon. 

Damian took Tim’s hand in his before he could move back to the computer. He did not want to lose Tim’s attention tonight. The roar of a bike echoed as they made their way up the stairs and closed the Batcave door. 

Damian used the moment to speak. 

“Timothy,” he whispered against the shell of his ear. He noted the way Tim’s skin prickled at his own name. “Do you like that?”

Tim swallowed and nodded, “Yeah. That one I like.”

“I like it too.” 

Damian kissed his Timothy again.


	2. The Absurdity of it All

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For every one that commented on Tedious something along the lines of, 'Where's Jason?'
> 
> Meant to be right before the final chapter of tedious I guess

“Why is there only one?” Damian asked, peering back over the display case.

The woman puffed out a breath and fiddled with her apron. “I misread the order and made an extra cupcake.” 

“What was it for?”

“A birthday party. For a 10-year-old, I think. I offered it to the mother for free but she said no thank you.” The woman began to wipe down the espresso machine. “I thought it was strange she would turn down a free cupcake.”

“It is strange,” Damian agreed, leaning forward to inspect the cupcake. The woman slowed her hand as she watched him.

Although she never acknowledged it out loud, the owner knew from day one, that her newest usual was a Wayne. Ever since New Year, the young Wayne would come in, buy a flat-white and hazelnut cappuccino, and then leave. He never made small talk. She did her best to respect that. Everyone wanted something different from their cornerstone coffee shop.

The day of the week tended to vary, but the order and level of chitchat her customer expected, did not. 

“Do you have paper boxes for single cupcakes?” Damian asked, drawing the owner from her daze. 

“Oh, yes! We do.”

“I’ll take it then,” he smiled and reached into his jeans for his wallet. 

The owner built the box, surprise still running through her. “You don’t need to pay for it. I was going to give it away for free anyway,” she sputtered. “Plus, you're a regular.”

“No,” Damian interrupted, “I would like to pay for it.” 

She woman blinked at him as she wrapped the cupcake. 

“It’s a gift,” he confessed under his breath. “I have to pay for it or else it’s not a gift.”

The owner shot him a perplexed grin and finished the boxing. Coming back to the counter, she took note of how Damian was picking at the numbers on his credit card. She stopped herself from asking more questions.

“Sure. That makes sense,” she lied. 

Damian paid, thanked her and left without any more small talk. 

The owner decided she would finally google her newest usual that evening. 

The cupcake was hideous. 

It was red velvet. The top was decorated with a mound of cream cheese frosting and yellow sprinkles. Sticking out of that, was a poorly constructed fondant skateboard.

The second Damian saw it, he had to get for Tim. 

They didn’t have a date lined up for the evening, but it had become normal for Damian to drop in. A quick tracker check showed Tim was home and a quick, “Can I come over,” text, confirmed that he wasn’t busy.

Damian had dropped by unannounced before and although some instances ended with blowjobs and pillow-talk, others ended with Damian waiting three hours for Tim to finish his long-distance Dungeons and Dragons game with Sebastian Ives. 

It was best to check. 

Walking down Tim’s hallway, Damian felt his skin kindle. This was the first gift he was giving Tim as his boyfriend. 

His (still secret but only from the general public) boyfriend.

He had asked about giving gifts before, only for Tim to shut it down in the name of secrecy. That was before Father knew.

This was the perfect icebreaker.

Something cheap and corny.

Damian had suppressed the fantasy of giving Tim presents for too long. Hopefully, this was the green light he needed to give more. 

He rocked back on his heels before knocking. A heavy pair of boots was heard behind the door. Next was Tim’s voice and then another, deeper, but still recognizable - Oh no. 

Damian frowned as Jason Todd answered the door with a happy homemaker smile.

“Oh Damian,” he cooed, “it’s so lovely to see you.”

“Why are you here?”

Jason propped himself against the door, crossing both his arms and legs. “Wow. No ‘hello.’ No ‘nice to see you.’ We haven’t seen each other since December.”

“That’s your own fault,” Damian chided. “I thought you were gallivanting in the tropics with the redheads.”

“Well, I did all the gallivanting I could and then ran out of redheads. Starfire has a princess thing and Roy has an arrow thing.” 

“And Artemis?”

“Has a mad at me thing.”

“You're worse than Richard.”

“Oh,” Jason prattled, “and here I thought you were gonna finally tell me you missed me.”

“I am not unhappy to see you,” Damian admitted as he shifted his weight to look past Jason. No Tim insight.

“And what about you?” 

The question brought Damian back to Jason. “What do you mean?”

“Why are you here,” he leaned forward before mocking, “lover boy?”

Damian pushed past him. “Seems you already know the answer.”

Jason sneered as he closed the door, “Delivering your secret boyfriend coffee?”

“And what of it?” Damian looked for signs of Tim as he placed his bags on the kitchen counter. 

“Just getting the story straight. Adapting as I go since neither of you tells me anything. Tim asked me to answer the door and be polite.”

“You’ve succeeded at one of the two tasks.”

“Hey! I’m doing my best with the limited information I’ve got. Never once did either of you two think ‘hey we told the rest of the family, maybe we should tell Jason.’”

Damian sucked his lip to his teeth before responding, “Has Tim already apologized?”

“Profusely,” Jason said. 

“Then consider that my apology as well.” 

Jason took a step toward Damian. “That’s not how this works, kiddo. I know this is your first big boy relationship, but Tim can’t apologize for you.”

Damian copied Jason’s step forward as sweat began to pool on his palms. “I don’t see the point in apologizing again. You were busy. We were-”

“Telling all of Young Justice?”

They stood cross-armed in silence for a beat in the center of Tim’s apartment. “Is that how you found out?”

“Donna told me.”

“Donna?”

“Cassie told her.”

“They’re a bunch of gossips.”

“They are,” Jason drawled, still waiting. “But it’s better than leaving your family out of the loop.” Damian pursed his lips and dropped his arms.

“Fine. I apologize for not informing you of my relationship with Tim. Are you happy?”

Jason held a stern expression for another few seconds before his mouth twitched. “Yeah!” he laughed causing Damian to step back, “ecstatic. For once, I’m not the one confusing the fuck out of everyone.” 

Damian allowed his posture to collapse as Jason squeezed his shoulder. “You aren’t surprised?”

“Of you and Tim?” Jason contemplated. “I’m not NOT surprised if that makes sense.”

“It doesn’t.”

“Look,” Jason moved his free hand to grip Damian’s other shoulder. Holding his breath, Damian tried to subdue any combative instincts. “I’m not surprised, but I didn’t expect it. It all sorta clicked when Donna mentioned it. I was more pissed off that neither of you told me. Tim more than you because we've talked on the phone a few times-"

"He's a master at omitting information," Damian interrupted.

"But also," Jason barreled on, "in a way none of this is surprising at all.”

Damian’s head lulled to the side as Jason continued his fumbled speech. “You two have always been a little obsessed with each other.”

“We have not,” Damian swatted. 

“You have, but now we all know why.” He beamed and pinched Damian’s shoulder for good measure before stepping back. “Just be careful with each other.”

Damian bent his fingers to touch his palm. The sweat was still coming. The nerves of coming out, time and time again, were still difficult to control. He had no doubt Jason would accept them, but the sliver of doubt still rattled.

“We are more than careful with each other,” Damian admitted. “We love each other.”

Jason’s eyes widened before he broke out into laughter. 

Affronted Damian continued, “It’s not a joke! Why does everyone laugh? Father laughed, and Conner assumed it was a prank. Richard downplayed my emotions, calling it a ‘crush.’ Stop laughing. I’m being serious!” 

Arms raised, Jason struggled to speak, “No! I know. I’m not laughing at you!”

“It feels like you are.”

“No,” he chuckled, “I am laughing at the situation.”

“Isn’t that same thing?”

“No! Damian, oh god,” Jason stumbled back to lean on Tim’s couch. “I’m laughing because it’s crazy.” 

Damian’s mouth twerked as Jason continued. “To think the biological ninja son of a man who wears a Batsuit would fall in love with the dorky neighbor kid who stalked said man in a Batsuit because he liked his sidekick‘s bird costume. It’s funny.”

The grin spread so easily now. “It is a bit funny.”

“It’s very funny,” Jason sighed. “Think of all the crazy shit that had to happen in the world for you two to meet let alone fall in love.” Damian ignored how Jason emphasized the word ‘love’ and shuffled his feet. 

Leaning back against the kitchen counter, he spoke, “It is absurd, to be honest. I haven’t taken time to think of it in the grander sense.” 

“So absurd,” Jason smiled, “but look at this way?” Their eyes met as that sense of joy Damian felt from buying Tim a cupcake returned. “The world did fucking backflips to bring you two together. That must mean something.” 

Unbridled happiness flooded Damian as Jason huffed one last laugh. The sappy Jane-Austen-loving side of Jason seemed to be just what he needed. 

“We should have told you first,” Damian assured. “If we had this level of support from the start it would have been easier.”

“Your fucking loss,” Jason chided, “both you and Timbo’s.” 

The warmth bubbled into Damian’s next question, “By the way, where is Tim?”

“Oh,” Jason blinked, “he’s in Robin's nest. I had got this gun that replaces people’s memories with cat videos and needs to see if he can reverse the process. There is a memory I need to get at for a murder case. Apparently Tim thinks he can do it.”

Damian blinked, “That’s a joke right? That has to be a joke.”

Jason shrugged and fell over the back of the couch. “No way. It’s the truth. It’s like supervillains today are making up their own laws of science.”

He kicked his boots reminding Damian to take off his own. “And yet Timothy can still work with what he’s given.” 

“He’s so fucking annoying,” Jason mumbled testing the new limits, “reversing evil death rays like it’s nothing.”

Damian hummed in agreement, toeing off his shoes. “He’s a know-it-all for sure.”

“And nit-picky,” Jason continued. “He told me I should throw out my jacket because of its full bullet holes.”

“That’s hypocritical of him considering he has several ‘Gotham Knights’ shirts from the 70s.”

Jason sighed and let his head lull over the edge of the couch. “And he’s sooo bad at kissing.”

“What!” Damian yelped, jumping up to the couch, hands already curling. "What are you -"

"I’m fucking with you!” Jason burst out laughing in an instant, arms up in defense, “Don’t!"

“Jay, come on,” Tim called from the secret doorway, causing them both to spring off the couch. “I asked you to do one thing.”

“You asked me to do two things,” Jason teased, rolling off the couch awkwardly to stand on his feet. “I did the first thing which was to open the door.”

“Considering I still have this gun you should do what I ask,” Tim smiled, turning to Damian. “Sorry for the wait.” 

“You owe me,” Damian said flatly.

“I wasn’t that rude,” Jason argued, moving to take the gun from Tim, “you don’t owe him shit.”

“But I do owe you an explanation on how to use this,” Tim started. His hands and words fluttered on the edge of Damian’s attention as he explained how to use the gun.

There was grease smeared on his cheek. 

Damian went to the sink to dampen a paper towel. He turned back to see Tim watching him as Jason asked a final question. 

“No,” Tim said. “You can’t add new memories, I don’t think. It will just return the ones already stolen based on the victim's DNA. At least, I hope so. We need to test it to be sure. You should come by the manor.”

“Maybe,” Jason deadpanned. “Depends.”

Damian held the towel out for Tim. “Clean your face.”

“Oh,” Tim mumbled, “I was wondering what you were doing. Where is it here?” He held the towel to the wrong cheek. Damian frowned and Tim moved his hand to the other side. “Here?”

Damian glanced at Jason who shook his head. “No,” Damian answered.

Tim's mouth quirked down. “My forehead?” 

Jason answered this time, “Nope.”

“My neck?”

“No,” the two answered and Tim huffed off to the bathroom.

“You guys are assholes,” Tim complained, turning on the sink. 

Jason laughed first, clamping a hand on Damian’s shoulder tipping Damian over the edge. 

“Aw man,” Jason breathed out wiping a tear, “glad we can still pick on Timmy.”

“I’m not,” Tim called out only eliciting a new fit of laughter from Damian.

“At least now you know it’s out of love now,” Jason explained. 

Tim flipped him off before moving to take his coffee. “Thank you for the coffee Damian and only the coffee.” After taking a sip he tugged at the edge of the bag. 

“Oh, that’s a gift” Damian disclosed through his joy. 

“A gift?” Tim and Jason questioned together.

Damian coughed to regain his composure, “For you, Tim. For later.”

“Or now,” Jason suggested.

“Or later,” Damian insisted.

“It is appropriate?” Tim asked tentatively. 

Damian could feel his skin heat, “Of course it’s appropriate!”

“Well now I’m disappointed,” Jason complained.

“Can I open it?”

Jason insisted, “Do it, Tim.”

“I’m not going to do it if Damian doesn’t want me to.”

“It’s fine.”

“We don’t have to, Dami.”

“I said it was fine,” Damian assured, folding his arms. A tickle sat in his throat as Jason winked at him. “It was just something I saw at Stella’s Bakery that reminded me of you.”

Tim’s eyes sparkled as he pulled out the box invoking that tickle in Damian’s throat to spread. 

“It’s a puppy,” Jason guessed.

“It’s not a puppy,” Damian asserted.

“Would be a small puppy,” Tim concluded.

Jason placed the gun down on the counter, “There are small puppies, ya know.”

“It would be inhumane to keep a puppy in a paper box,” Damian defended as Tim undid the top.

As it fell open, Damian suddenly remembered how ugly the cupcake was. Confidence faltering Damian explained, “It looked much better in the store. I didn’t buy it to be like a major gift so you shouldn’t have expected much. There were better sweets but this one had the decoration and I-”

“It looks just like Red Board,” Tim comforted. “Is it red velvet?”

“It is,” Damian quaked, glancing at Jason who seemed to be enraptured.

“My fav,” Tim praised. The tickle rippled through Damian’s body. “And it’s cute. You found this at Stella’s?”

“It was for a birthday party.”

“Weird,” Tim continued. “I’m glad you found it. I’m gonna save it for a midnight snack mostly cause I feel weird eating a cupcake by myself in front of you both.”

“Don’t kink shame Tim,” Jason finally interjected.

“I’m not kink-shaming,” Tim bit back, “I’m just opting out of participating in your weird fantasy Jay.” Placing the cupcake back in the box, he tucked it into the fridge.

“Speaking of fantasies,” Jason drawled, “I have to remove some cat-related ones from a witness’s memory.”

“You aren’t staying for dinner?” Tim prodded.

“Another time.”

“Like this weekend? You should come to the manor to ya know, test the gun.”

Jason hopped out of his seat, “Only if Damian brings me a cupcake.”

Damian pretended to consider it, “Stella couldn't possibly capture your essence in a cake but I’ll do my best.”

“Hah hah,” Jason retorted, grabbing his bag and stuffing the gun in it. “Thank you again for helping, Timbo. We’re even now.”

“Sure one of us will mess up the scales again soon.”

“My bets are on you two,” he teased and opened Tim’s sliding door. “But make sure to include me next time.”

“We will,” Tim answered nudging Damian. 

“What Tim said.”

Jason turned back to dig in his bad. “I already told you that’s not how it works Damian,” he lamented. 

“I’ll adjust when it stops working for us,” Damian snipped back. 

Pulling out his helmet, Jason smiled. “See you two this weekend.” And like any good Bat he hopped off the balcony and out of sight. 

Tim closed the sliding door behind him. “Thank you,” Tim repeated right away.

“For the cupcake?”

“For everything,” Tim beamed, grabbing Damian’s face to kiss him. Any tickle Damian felt was soothed into a sense of tenderness. Nerves unbundling into Tim’s touch and gratitude pouring from both their lips. "But especially for that ugly cupcake. I love it."

Damian buried his face in Tim's shoulder, "I'm telling Stella you said that."

"Please don't," Tim pleaded before pushing up toppling Damian back onto the couch. 

As absurd as their story was, Damian couldn’t help but adore every second of it.


	3. Team Leaders Just Wanna Have Fun

“Where’s Red Robin,” Damian demanded. Cissie shrugged, still focused on her Backgammon game.

“Bad mission?” She asked instead of answering. 

“It’s complete, Wondergirl. That’s all that matters.”

Cissie, who hit two of Cassie’s checkers in one turn, scoffed. “Completed is code for ‘done but I am pissed about it’,” she teased. 

Damian pinched his tongue between his teeth before responding, “I don’t want to discuss it.”

“Not with me,” Cassie snatched the dice, “you mean?”

“Not with us!” Cissie interjected. Cassie rolled but nothing allowed her checkers to reenter the game. She pouted as Cissie continued on, “I may not be an active member of the team but you can talk to us, Robin. Always happy to gossip.” 

Damian’s ears tinged red as Cissie grinned. “It's not gossip!”

“Boo,” Cassie drawled, “here I thought you might finally chat with me. We’re both team leaders after all.”

Damian shuffled his feet causing his cape to shroud his torso. Cassie watched the fabric fall and her smile fell with it.

Cissie rolled again. 

“Another time. A different subject,” Damian forced out, trying to maintain a polite tone. 

“Fine, but I’m holding you to it.” Cassie fell back against the couch. The dice stared back at her as Cissie moved her checkers. 

Damian estimated the probability of the backgammon board. He clicked his tongue against his teeth, “You’re going to lose, Wondergirl.” 

Cissie broke into laughter as Cassie threw up a hand and pointed, “He’s in the pool! Get out!”

“Thank you.”

Damian left before she could answer. 

He smelled the chlorine as he reached the door. His glove hand paused on the handle. He thought of changing out of uniform but pushed anyway. 

Upon spotting Tim in the pool, he silenced his pace. Damian listened to the sound of Tim’s stroke in the natatorium. It echoed through him. He breathed in and out with the strokes, releasing his shoulders in the process. Damian stopped walking as Tim disappeared briefly to kick off the opposite wall. Damian didn’t say anything as he watched his boyfriend swim. 

Tim was always a good swimmer. He wasn’t a champion by any means, but he, like the rest of the Bats, could outswim an average civilian. Damian focused on the repetition of the movements as Tim made his way back to him. 

He thought of doing something to say hello but Damian assumed Tim heard the door open. Tim pushed his upper body up to drip onto the edge when he reached the end. 

Softly, he smiled and offered a winded, “Hi.” His waterproof mask obscured Damian’s view of how Tim’s eyes crinkled whenever he said ‘hello.’

“How many laps did you do?”

Tim pushed a hand through his wet hair, “Uh like 45.” Damian watched the water trickle down Tim’s bicep. 

“What time did you get in?”

“About 30 minutes ago.”

Damian folded his arms under his cape, “That’s a slow pace for you.”

Tim rested his chin on his now folded arms. “I wasn’t trying to keep a pace.”

“Then why were you swimming?”

“It's relaxing,” Tim shot back before gripping the edge. He dunked himself under the water. Damian used the moment to step closer. When Tim emerged, Damian’s stomach churned at the sight. He could just jump in. His suit could handle it. Float for a bit with his boyfriend. 

Tim spoke again, “There’s nothing else you can really do when you swim but count the laps and keep going.”

“Do you need to relax,” Damian asked. “Are you stressed?”

“Are you?” 

“Tt.” At that Tim hopped up to sit on the floor beside Damian boots. He shook his hands before reaching for the laces. “Take these off.”

Damian bent his knee to pull his leg away. “I’m filthy from my mission.”

Tim’s lips pursed before responding, “Pretty sure Beast Boy did his laps as a wooly mammoth today.”

Damian scrunched his nose.

“Sit with me,” Tim offered before reaching again. Damian took another deep breath before taking a knee to unlace.

He didn’t look at Tim as he untied his boots. When finished he stood back up and stared out at the pool. His bare feet against the wet tile was calming. Tim poked at Damian’s knee pad. 

“These too.”

Damian puffed in fake protest but did as he was told, eyes still trained on the pool. Tim shook his hands before reaching out to push up at Damian’s leggings. His still wet hands snuck under the fabric and against Damian’s skin.

Damian almost melted at the touch. The gentleness of how Tim handled him. 

“How often do you sunburn?” He asked pulling both of their attentions. 

“What?” Tim’s fingers paused on the back of Damian’s calf. 

“It’s a simple question,” he spat and instantly recoiled at his own tone. Tim reached around awkwardly to lift Damian’s other legging till it bunched at his knee.

“Often if I'm not careful,” Tim answered. “Whatever SPF you use, double it.”

Damian couldn’t stop himself anymore. “That’s not how sunblock works. Having darker skin doesn’t mean I should be wearing different sunscreen. That misconception puts people at risk because then they have a false sense of security. They think are immune to sun damage.”

Tim didn’t protest but instead hummed a, “You’re right.” Damian finally looked at him to see Tim had removed his mask. 

His stare engulfed Damian, wrapping him as the water would if he let himself fell forward. 

“Please sit with me.”

Damian swallowed, pushed back his cape, and sat on the damp edge of the pool. He pushed his legs into the cold water without hesitation and folded his hands on his lap. 

The water was warmer than he expected. The artificial light reflected against the settling water. Damian kept still as Tim scooted closer. Tentatively he pressed his bare shoulder to Damian’s clothed. 

“So the sunburn question was because,” Tim trailed. 

“I think we should go to the beach,” Damian suggested. 

“The beach?”

“For a week.” He paused to kick his feet and watch the water ripple. Tim waited beside him. “Take a vacation. Rent a house before the semester starts.”

When the pause lingered, Tim spoke. “That sounds nice.”

“It would be,” Damian declared. “I would also make sure your skin doesn’t burn.”

“An impossible task.” Tim pressed his shoulder a bit harder, forcing Damian to push back or topple over. 

“Not for me.” Damian turned and was greeted by Tim’s gaze. The natatorium shrunk around them as Tim's mouth quirked. 

“When would you want to go?”

“Immediately.”

“Your team wouldn’t miss you,” Tim shot back. 

“They don’t need me,” Damian pushed against his boyfriend, turning back to the pool. The room grew again, reminding Damian how little his place in it was. “They made that abundantly clear today.” 

The water lapped at where Damian’s leggings bunched, dampening them. He clenched and unclenched his jaw a few times, before snapping, “Aren’t you going to say anything?”

“Was waiting for you to continue,” Tim reasoned.

Damian wrung his hands but it still took another minute for him to start explaining. “Crush staged a mutiny.”

“Mutiny?” The touch of disbelief snapped his head back to Tim. 

“A vote then,” he extrapolated, “that may be more accurate but it might as well have been a mutiny. Worse yet, the team supported her bid to lead the team. All except Red Arrow.” Tim's now dry but pruned hand came to pull Damian’s apart, forcing his shoulders to begin to relax as well. “They say I’m not focused and more abrasive than usual. That since Crush is living at the tower she can be more on top of the team.”

“You know,” Tim pulled Damian’s hand to the rest of his thigh. He wrapped his second hand around the back and began to play with the stitches of Damian’s glove. “Cassie is the leader of Young Justice.”

“I thought you were leading. She mentioned it today and it surprised me.”

Tim continued, “I gave it back to her in January. I think she’ll ask me to take it back on in August before the UN general assembly.” 

Damian let Tim trace numbers on his gloved palm. He was never one for making up patterns. Sometimes Damian tried to decode the messages in Tim's numbers. 

“This arrangement we have,” Tim murmured, “It didn’t come easy. Cassie actually beat me in a team leader election too.”

Damian scoffed, “Why would Young Justice have an election?”

“The team was mad at me for supporting Batman’s surveillance of the Justice League.”

“It’s for their own good.” Tim pulled back to push Damian’s glove off. 

“That’s what I said, but they voted for Cassie. In the end, it worked out because now we have two people who are comfortable taking on the leadership role." He paused and laced his bare fingers with Damian’s, “it still hurt when it happened.”

Damian squeezed. “At least your election was the result of Batman. I can’t blame my father for this.”

“No, but it might be a good thing.” Tim tilted his head to rest on Damian’s shoulder and without thought, Damian’s head drifted to meet his. The wet end of Tim’s hair curled against his cheek. “Let Crush lead, if it doesn’t work out, you’ll have the satisfaction of being right. If it does work out, well then your team will have two awesome leaders ready.”

“Mmm,” Damian half-agreed, nuzzling his cheek against Tim’s damp head. His eyes threatened to shut. 

“And then you can have more fun,” Tim’s voice whispered.

“What do you mean?”

“Team leaders have to be examples,” Tim explained. Damian held his excitement back at Tim’s tone. “Act perfect all the time. If you let Crush lead you can have a little more fun“ and like that, Tim shot forward pulling Damian with him. 

Upon hitting the water Damian let himself go and floated down. He watched through his mask as Tim grinned. He faked a scowl prompting Tim’s smile to double. They both knew if Damian didn’t want this, he would have been able to stop Tim. 

But Damian let the world drift off as Tim gripped both his arms and pulled him to the surface. 

The pool wasn’t deep. Damian found his footing as Tim pressed up on his toes to unhook Damian’s cape. 

“Falling into a pool fully dressed is your idea of fun? You've been spending too much time with Nightwing,” Damian chided. Still, he pulled off his second glove. 

“Being dressed was your own fault.” Tim bit his lip and offered an exaggerated wink, “but I can take care of that.”

Damian coughed through the start of his laughter. “That was terrible. You’re terrible.”

“Oh yeah,” Tim challenged wrapping his arms around Damian’s shoulders, “how about I show you how terrible I can really be.”

Sucking his lip didn’t stop Damian’s grin from overtaking his face. “Tell me then. Tell me something bad you do, Red Robin, when you aren’t setting an example.”

Tim leaned his body weight on Damian who gladly took it. He wrapped his arms around Tim’s waist. “Ok but you have to promise not to tell.”

“Promise.”

“Sometimes, when I make a new password for an online account, I don’t put any special characters in. Make it easy for any hackers.”

Damian rolled his eyes, squeezing Tim as the former Robin moved to grab his face. Tim shifted to cup Damian’s hands. 

“You’re embarrassing.”

“I thought I was terrible.”

“Terribly embarrassing.”

“All qualities I can indulge in when I don’t have to lead anyone.” Tim winked again and Damian let himself drown. 

They kissed. Wet and fast. Hands grabbed at dripping fabric, barely staying upward. Adrenaline and frustration from the day poured into Damian’s grip as he bent Tim back. Their bodies rolled against each other, causing the water to splash up between them.

Pulling back Damian muttered against the shell of Tim’s ear, “I want you. I want to have you. Take you.” 

Tim sprung back in Damian’s arms, red-faced, “But not in the pool.”

Damian blinked and remembered where they were. Not the Wayne pool but the Titans Tower pool. Cameras. Nosy teammates with super hearing. The smell of damp Woolly Mammoth fur. He swallowed his arousal and thought for half a second, “Will you come to my room?”

Tim’s blush spread down his chest as he laughed, “Like a booty call?”

Damian frowned, “I don’t think it’s a booty call if you’re dating.”

“It feels like a booty call,” Tim teased, rolling the hip Damian was still holding. 

He squeezed in response, before pressing his forehead to Tim’s. “Is that a yes?”

Tim kneed his hands into Damian’s shoulders, somehow releasing the last knot of tension. “Yeah,” he murmured, tilting his head to kiss Damian, “But you need to shower, your uniform reeks.”

Damian shoved Tim back into the water and hopped out of the pool.

“Oh come on,” Tim called as Damian collected his things. “You said it first.” Spotting Damian’s cape, Tim dove to retrieve it. “Don’t walk away.”

Damian paused for a moment before reaching out to take the cape from Tim’s raised hand. “I’m not walking away. I’m going to go shower.” 

Tim smiled back, hand still wrapped in the cape, “Will you text me when you're ready then?” He tugged. 

“Yes,” Damian answered definitively before squatting down to look at Tim. "But know that when you do come to my room, I intend to fuck you into the mattress.” At that, he ripped the cape from Tim’s grip without a second glance.

The sound of Tim hopping out of the pool echoed, through the room. It assured him. At least Tim was happy to follow Damian’s lead tonight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feel free to post some prompts in the comments. I have a few more of these in my head but it’s always good to have new avenues of romance to explore.

**Author's Note:**

> Just to clarify, I love all forms of endearment in any language. Other TimDami stories use really sweet ones, but I wanted to play around the concept a bit instead of just following what's become a standard for the pairing.
> 
> Tim might be uncharacteristically patient in this chapter which is why I clarified he is doing busywork. I think if it was something pressing, drawing him away from a case would be much more difficult. Plus I think the entire Batam is composed of workaholics :P sooooo


End file.
